


Experimental Duet

by SilenceoftheLlamas



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Experimental AU, I'm Sorry, M/M, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:27:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9093190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceoftheLlamas/pseuds/SilenceoftheLlamas
Summary: An Experimental AU where Prowl is the victim of an experiment gone wrong.Jazz tries to settle in to his new home at Iacon best he can, but things just keep getting weirder. Especially where his Second in Command is concerned.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little birthday treat to myself. I celebrated my birthday on boxing day, but took me a couple days to get this to where i wanted it to be. Oopsies.

Prowl had managed to keep it hidden and under control for vorns. Only the high command knew of his... Condition. The fewer knew the better - less could exploit it, and it wouldn't make the crew doubt him. The little trust that they had in him would remain unscathed.

That is, until _Jazz_ turned up.

Jazz was a Polyhex mech. Their Prime had found him while pushing back the Decepticons in the citystate, and had decided to bring him back against the advice of... Pretty much everyone. 'He could be a spy!' Optimus ignored. 'This could be a trap, he's skilled enough to be an assassin!' He also ignored. 'Can you fight him if he turns on you?'

It was only when Ratchet had managed to complete his checkup that they all settled down. His spark case was intact - no Decepticon had an intact spark case, the badges being made from the intimate metal. His record also came up remarkably clean - Jazz simply expressed his desire to become an Autobot and who were they to deny him?

But Prowl had a... Strange feeling when he was around Jazz. His head would start to feel tight at the back, and sometimes he'd be so disorientated he would miss the conversation and have to ask them to repeat over and over again.

So two groons after Jazz arrived, Prowl went to Ratchet.

"So you think the fail safe has been tripped?" Ratchet asked as Prowl reclined in his seat.

"That is what I believe."

"And only around Jazz?"

"Fortunately, yes."

Ratchet nodded and sighed. "Why do you lot never make my job easy? No, no don't answer that." He hastily added as he saw Prowl open his mouth.

"What do you suggest I do? I cannot let this progress any further."

"You can request a transfer, although I hear talks that Prime wants to move all of his high command to Iacon."

"So he will not let me leave." Prowl frowned. "And if I suggest a more suitable second in command?"

"You'll be shot down instantly." Ratchet deadpanned. "He doesn't want anyone but you."

"I cannot stay around Jazz."

"Jazz may be moved back to Polyhex."

"Then for everyone's safety, I truly hope that is the case."

* * *

 

Jazz walked around the base with a spring in his step.

He was highly, painfully aware that there wasn't much trust in him. Many still thought he was a spy, send to assassinate the Prime. Red Alert still refused to give him any patrols, so he hadn't been outside of the base since he first entered, nor would Red Alert let him in the monitor room, the nerve centre, or... Anywhere important. It meant his list of approved tasks was painfully short and repetitive and _irritating_.

But he didn't mind too much when he remembered the alternative. Living under the tyrannical rule of the slumlords of Polyhex? And the Decepticons? No, thank you!

So he was very surprised when the Prime had summoned him and slid a datapad towards him.

"You are the only one on base with the experience and knowledge of Polyhex needed for this mission." Optimus said. "I won't force you to go-"

"I'll go!" Jazz jumped up to his feet. "I'll gladly go!"

The Prime looked slightly taken back and Jazz suddenly remembered his manners as he slowly sat back down again. "I'll do my best." He corrected.

"See that you do." Optimus replied. "Prowl will be leading the mission, and you will be accompanied by Bumblebee and Cliffjumper. I'll be in touch."

Yes! Jazz jumped with pure delight as he left the office. He was getting off the base!! He was going to go outside!

* * *

 

Their small group consisted of Jazz, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, and Prowl. Once Special Ops had smuggled them inside the city undetected, they were on their own. The objective was simple; a simple bit of reconnaissance with a a side of stealing blueprints for a rumoured weapon. Prowl had calculated a very high chance that they would encounter hostiles, and an even higher chance that someone was likely to get very badly wounded; they would need to be cautious.

Jazz was their guide. He still knew the city like the back of his hand; he knew the usual patrol routes, the back alleys that weren't on any maps, where the guards were most concentrated and where they had weapons that would do more than sting a little bit. He silently lead them, gesturing when to stop, when to go. So far they haven't bumped into a single patrol group, and Jazz was wondering how they had managed to get so lucky.

That is, until they crept into a long abandoned shell of a building. In life, it had probably been some kind of shopping centre, a few dusty and broken signs littering the floor. Prowl had read a few that he had recognised, various bars and games shops, and the odd casino. They climbed through a broken window into what Jazz said was once a huge department store that sold everything you could think of. He had a wistful look about him as he looked at what it had become.

The group moved forwards.

The floor creaked and groaned below them.

"This doesn't feel very safe." Jazz said.

"No, it really doesn't." Bumblebee replied, nervously scooting backwards.

"Jazz, take the lead. We'll go slowly." Prowl shuffled over to let Jazz go first, the four of them forming a line. The floor creaked and groaned under their combined weight, eventually cracking.

"Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, back up. Now." He commanded, the two minibots not hesitating to comply. But the damage had been done - the sudden disturbance of the two legging it was the straw on the camels back.

Jazz couldn't hold back his shout of "oh Primus!" when the floor gave in, Prowl tumbling down after him. Prowl landed on his feet in a crouch while Jazz rolled ungracefully on the floor. He could have sworn he had heard the Praxian laugh at that, but he chose to ignore it. There was something more important at hand.

Like how much _noise_ that had just made.

"Fall back!" Prowl hissed at the two minibots, shuttering his optics as dust fell on them. "Make contact with base camp. Tell them we've been separated and require extraction."

"But-" Jazz desperately tried to object. They hadn't even accomplished anything!

"Go! Now!"

The sound of approaching mechs made up the minibots minds. They transformed and sped off as Jazz narrowed his unseen optics at Prowl.

"Do you recognise these tunnels?" Prowl asked.

"Nope." Jazz replied. "We can just head the same way as we were before. I'll use my pedometer to work out where we are through distance."

"Very well. Lead the way."

"Why did you call for an extraction?" Jazz asked, "we've hardly done anything."

"You do not want to be stuck with me in an enclosed space". Prowl replied, his voice... Different. He couldn't quite place it, though. Deeper? Huskier?

"Why's that?"

"I..." Prowl paused, furiously rubbing the back of his helm, "can't control it, sometimes."

"... Control what?"

"You'll find out."

"You're really creeping me out right now, mech." Jazz nervously laughed. "We should take a right here..." Jazz went to go right and spotted movement. "Aw, shit." He muttered before grabbing Prowl and dragging him back, pressing himself up against the wall.

Prowl had gone rigid.

Jazz didn't notice.

"We need some kind of distraction..." Jazz mumbled to himself, looking around the tunnels. He could hear movement now, and the sounds of voices.

There was a black and white blur in front of him that looked suspiciously like Prowl, darting away down the right side tunnel.

"O... Or that I guess?" Jazz tentatively followed his superior officer.

Their whole demeanour had changed. Instead of being straight, poised, and regal, he was haunched over in a way that made him look almost possessed, his hands tightly grasping short blades. His doorwings were held up high in aggression as opposed to their usual gentle slope. And the way he moved...

He moved like a killer.

The first mech dropped to the floor in a shower of energon and little more than a gasp. The second went in a similar way. The third had more notice and tried to run away.

Prowl jumped on their back, pinning them to the floor before repeatedly stabbing them in the back and in the helm.

Jazz felt his breath catch in his throat.

What the _fuck_.

Prowl had seriously meant what he had said earlier...

The fourth mech was shaking, barely able to hold onto his gun as he repeated prayers over and over, begging for protection. When Prowl slowly stood up and fixed his attention on him, Jazz jumped forwards and grabbed onto Prowls arm.

"Leave them!"

Prowl slowly turned to look at Jazz. The fourth wasted no time in sprinting away.

"P-Prowl?" Jazz let go of him and began to back away, visor locked onto Prowls bright red optics.

Prowl silently stalked towards him, backing Jazz into the wall. He reached forwards when close enough, bumper to bumper, and grabbed Jazz's chin. Forcing him to look up, Prowl hummed.

"You're adorable."

Jazz noticed that energon was spattered all over Prowl, dripping down his face.

"I'm adorable?"

"Did you not just hear me say it?"

"Y-yeah... But why am I?"

"You thought you could stop me from killing that mech."

"I did, didn't I? He's still alive, getting away, yet here you are with me."

"Can't leave you on your own."

There was the whine of a pistol being charged, and it was pressed into the back of Prowls helm. Jazz peered around to see the right hand mech of the Special Ops officer.

He didn't remember his name.

"Let go of him."

"Make me."

The trigger clicked.

"Prowl, let go." Jazz insisted. "I'll let you get that fourth mech."

Prowls doorwings twitched. "Deal."

He suddenly let go of Jazz and darted off down the hallway, leaving the other mech stunned.

"Are you okay?" They finally asked when they remembered themselves. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"He warned me about it." Jazz assured him. "I'm... Kinda numb, actually." Jazz glanced at the dead bodies on the floor. "Very numb."

"Medical is waiting for us." They lead Jazz back through the tunnels, going back to the opening. "We were in the area and heard the floor collapse. You're lucky the minibot's told us which way you were going."

"I'll thank them."

Jazz suddenly felt sick.

Oh Primus, oh _Primus_.

"So... Prowl... Is that normal?" Jazz shakily asked. The other mech glanced at them before quickening their pace.

"I wish I could tell you, kid."

The medical team helped bring them back up to the surface as Jazz scrambled to find somewhere to empty his tanks. Shock, the medics later told him. He was just in shock, and he would be fine. It was a perfectly normal reaction.

Prowl never resurfaced.

* * *

 

A few days later, Prowl stumbled back into the base. He had huge lacerations almost rendering his right leg useless, numerous burn marks from laser fire, many cuts, dents, and scratches, but most curiously for Jazz, the back of his helm had been clawed at. It looked like Prowl had done it to himself.

Jazz avoided the medical bay. He didn't want to see Prowl. Not just yet.

Prowl himself typed out a datapad while sitting on the medical berth, his leg numb as First Aid worked on sealing leaking energon lines and working out what the _hell_ had caused it.

Optimus had demanded a report on just what had happened - Prowl had a vague memory of what he had done while he was... Not himself, so it was his duty to inform his Prime. Optimus knew that Prowl had no control over what he did, so he was somewhat understanding when it came to what Prowl got up to. Prowl didn't get punished for it - it wasn't him.

Prowl almost didn't even notice when First Aid had finished, the medic excusing himself. He simply nodded at him before continuing with his report.

A little while later, Optimus visited him. Prowl handed him the report.

"I assure you, this is as best as I remember." Prowl said.

"Thank you, Prowl." The Prime subspaced the datapad. "How are you feeling?"

"Acceptable." Prowl replied. "Sore, but that is to be expected."

The Prime nodded in acknowledgement. "I am glad it is not worse."

"It has been, hasn't it?" Prowl looked down at his leg.

Optimus placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do not blame yourself, you're not to blame. Nobody finds you at fault for this."

"I need a new fail safe." Prowl insisted. "Quickly. Before it happens again, I-I don't know what I'll do if I trip again-"

"Are you certain that it is Jazz tripping it? Or something about him?"

"I... It only ever happens around Jazz. It could simply be his spark signature, something that we cannot change."

"This is... Troublesome."

"Forcing him to wear a dampener is simply unethical, and it would double his energon requirements." Prowl forlornly replied. "I don't think there is an easy solution to this."

"Perhaps we are looking at this the wrong way." Optimus crossed his arms over his chest, tapping at the elbow. "We simply need to cut back on contact, yes? Then we give him an opposing shift set."

"I will look into that immediately." Prowl promised. "For now..."

"Rest." Optimus stood up as Ratchet entered. "You will need it."

* * *

 

Three weeks after Prowl had been released, Jazz received an updated timetable.

"They've put me on nights!" Jazz bitched to Blaster. "Even more dead!"

"Go talk to Prowl about it." Blaster said as he sorted through his music collection. "He's the one who does the timetabling."

"P-Prowl?!"

"Don't tell me you're still scared of him." Blaster snorted in disbelief. "He's not going to bite."

"I still can't get what happened out of my mind." Jazz admitted. He had already told Blaster what had transpired in the tunnels - both agreed it was strange and incredibly out of character for Prowl.

"Prowl isn't the type to suddenly go on a murder spree on base."

"I know, I know, but even seeing his doorwings in the hallway makes me nervous."

"I can go with you." Blaster said, brushing dust off a record. "I'll stay outside."

Still uncertain and somewhat nervous, Jazz reluctantly nodded. _Fine._

The two trooped down to Prowls office, Jazz clutching his arms to his chest as though protecting himself. They were largely ignored by anyone who came past, thankfully.

Jazz stopped directly in front of his office and sucked in a deep breath, slowly releasing it as he allowed his frame to sag. He turned to give Blaster a forlorn look.

"Do I have to?"

Blaster simply leaned forward and rapped on the door before giving him a shit eating grin.

"Yes."

Jazz faintly heard Prowl call for him to enter, and so he awkwardly palmed the door open and put on his fakest grin.

"Soo, Prowl, Sir," Jazz stumbled over his words. Clearing his intake, he tried his best to continue. "I saw that you changed me to be on night shift?"

"Is there an issue with that?" Prowl asked, optics still locked onto a data pad in his lap.

"Well... Yeah." Jazz swallowed hard. "I'm a pretty social guy; the night shift is a bare skeleton crew. It completely takes me out of what I need."

"The shifts were changed due to certain... Issues." Prowl finally turned to look at Jazz. "I'm sure you know what I mean."

Jazz's breath caught in his throat. "Like what happened in Polyhex."

"Exactly that." Prowl replied. "I'm aware that you are uncomfortable around me as a result, and so I deemed it best to change you to the night shift where you are far less likely to encounter me."

"I understand." Jazz replied. "But I'd rather we try and work around what happened in Polyhex." Jazz shuffled his feet, highly aware of Blaster standing outside waiting for him.

"You are distracted." Prowl frowned.

"You're changing the topic."

Prowl frowned even harder. The two stared at each other for a time before Prowl sighed and waved his hand at him as though wafting him towards the door.

"I'll change your shifts back. Now, if you'd excuse me, I have quite a bit of work to be getting on with." A hand briefly massaged the back of his head.

"You owe me an explanation." Jazz pushed, not noticing the way Prowl had stiffened and clenched his jaw. "For Polyhex. What happened back there? Why did you do that?"

"I don't... Remember, what I did." Prowl replied, voice strained. "You really need to leave." His hands rubbed at the back of his head more insistently.

"Not until I get my explanation!"

"You will get it!" Prowl suddenly stood behind his desk, chair clattering to the floor. "But now, you need to leave. _Now_."

"Why?" Jazz stormed closer to the desk. "What's wrong with telling me now?" He placed his hands firmly on the desk, leaning in closer to Prowl. The taller mech went rigid, his optics squeezing shut as they seemed to fight with themselves before they relaxed and their optics slowly opened again. Jazz felt a wave of dread crash over him as he saw they were bright, bright red.

Uh oh.

"Because," Prowl purred in that same voice from the tunnels, "you're stuck in a tiny room with me; the big bad wolf." Prowl had leaned in closer, and Jazz could feel his breath ghosting on his face and a hand tickling his jawline. Fingers gently pushed his chin up, pressing more firmly when Jazz resisted.

"You really are adorable."

"What do you want?" Jazz asked.

"Not much." Prowl mused. "Just curious about something."

"Such as?"

"I wonder what sound you'll make?"

Jazz didn't get a chance to question him, as before he could even open his mouth Prowl had captured it with his own, fingers moving to hold him in place. His visor brightened in shock when he realised what was happening - Prowl! Prowl was kissing him! And then Prowl got his answer.

An undignified squeak.

Jazz found himself scrabbling at Prowl, trying to push him away and pull him closer at the same time. Shit, he didn't know what he should do, or even what he wanted. Sure, he'd quite like someone to be waiting for him after his shift, and to wish him luck for his missions, but Prowl? _Prowl_?!

He hadn't even thought Prowl had an ounce of interest in him. Apparently, he was very wrong.

All too soon, Jazz felt Prowl smirking against his lips and he pulled away with a wet sound. "So that's what sound you make. You truly are adorable."

Jazz felt anger bubble up in the pit of his stomach. How dare he. _How dare he_.

The clang as Jazz backhanded him rumbled through the office. The two stared each other down, the smirk wiped clean off Prowls face and replaced with a scowl.

"Don't. Don't you dare." Jazz growled at him.

"You're not so cute anymore."

" _Good_."

Prowl let go of him. "You interest me, Jazz. I do hope we'll be able to meet again."

"Unfortunately we will, Prowl."

Prowls doorwings twitched. "I prefer Barricade."

Jazz nodded uneasily. "Barricade."

Jazz slowly backed out of the office, fingers absently touching his lips. Holy cow. Blaster gave him a strange look.

"Did you slap him?" He quietly asked once they were round the corner, hastily walking away.

"Yup."

"W-why?!" Blaster looked as though he'd be tearing his hair out if he had any.

"He kissed me." Jazz uneasily replied. "Is that... Normal?"

"No. Not really." Blaster looked just as shocked as Jazz did. "Prowl doesn't _do_ affection. We think he's missing his emotional circuits or something. He's never so much as hugged his younger brother."

Jazz looked around them to check they were alone. "He said something weird. Said he prefers to be called Barricade."

Blaster faltered slightly before quickly catching up. "I'm sorry, what? Barricade?"

"Yeah."

"I... Don't understand." Blaster frowned. "Barricade was a Decepticon. Pretty ruthless one, too."

"Killed his own kind?" Jazz asked with a frown. Blaster faltered and his mouth set in a grim line.

"You think Prowl is..?"

"I'm really hoping he isn't."

* * *

 

True to his word, Jazz was placed back to his original shift pattern. He found himself actively seeking Prowl out, still wanting his explanations. An apology for what had happened, too - Jazz knew he had to apologise for slapping him, but part of him screamed that Prowl had deserved it.

Prowl, however, had made himself scarce.

He only ever saw him during base-wide announcements, or during a battle. Trying to grab him after was fruitless; he simply disappeared. His office was always locked, and whenever he knocked he was ignored.

Huffing to himself, Jazz heavily sat down on his berth.

Why was it so hard to find the damn mech?!

There was only one thing for it. In Polyhex, there had been a special ops mech. Jazz still didn't remember his name, but he knew what he looked like and where to find him. Luckily for Jazz, too, he had a bit of an excuse to head down there.

He wanted to transfer.

There was a special operations unit that was based in Polyhex, and Jazz knew that was where he wanted to be. He wanted to be there to help get the remaining civilians out before it got any worse, and given how poorly the Autobots had handled the situation there thus far, they clearly needed help.

As he was about to push the door to the Special Ops unit open, the door flung open unbidden and a white and blue mech stormed out. Jazz paused for a moment to watch them storm off, briefly wondering what could gave gotten them so miffed, before cautiously entering himself.

The special ops mechs were laughing hard, clapping each other on the shoulder as they obviously spoke about the mech who had just left.

"Can you believe that? A noble? In special ops?" One cackled. Jazz slowly started to back out, realising that this was probably a bad time, when a hand clamping on his shoulder stopped him.

"Hey... Aren't you that guy from Polyhex?"

Jazz looked up at the mech who had saved him from Pro- no, Barricade, in the tunnels of Polyhex.

"Yeah." Jazz's audial twitched as the laughter suddenly stopped. Why? What had sobered them?

He looked up at the mech, who was giving the others a hard look.

Ah. Sobering.

"I see. What brings you to my humble abode?"

"I wanted to ask about transferring to Polyhex."

That got a muffled snort from a big mech with his back to them. Jazz glared at them. What was so funny?

"Ah." The mech let go of his shoulder. "We're not really the ones to ask. Prowl handles that."

Jazz frowned. "He's avoiding me."

"Not our problem, kid." They shrugged. "Better luck next time, hey?"

Jazz bristled. "But-!"

"No. No ifs, no buts. We don't want any old rando joining us." They firmly said, prodding Jazz in the chest.

"It wouldn't be you dealing with me-"

"But your mistakes are our mistakes. I don't want to have to deal with that."

'Prick!' Jazz found himself thinking as he tightly nodded. "There's something else I want to ask."

"Go ahead." They gave him an amused smirk, expecting something even more hilarious to come out.

"Why is Barricade here?"

The entire room went dead silent. If a pin dropped, it would probably sound like an explosion. Looks were shared between the ops mechs lounging around, and many of them stared at Jazz.

The right hand mech looked very, very, uncomfortable.

"Barricade isn't here." They carefully said.

"Are you sure about that?"

They leaned in close to Jazz. "I don't know what you're playing at, and if you think this is helping your chances any. Because it isn't. Barricade is _dead_. I killed him myself." He hissed.

Jazz found himself asking the same question. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Then tell me what you know about Prowl. You know something."

They glanced up at the other mechs, who were listening intently even though they pretended to be doing something else. He groaned and grabbed onto Jazz, dragging him into an office and hastily locking the door.

"Why am I even doing this?" They groaned, scraping a hand down his face.

"Because I'll let everyone know you failed to kill Barricade." Jazz leaned back against the wall and raised an eyebrow.

"Prowl isn't Barricade."

"He told me that's what his name was."

"He's mistaken. Prowl is... Abnormal. When he first joined us we had trouble containing him during his episodes, which is how I know he can freak out." He bunny eared his fingers. "Otherwise he's perfectly normal - for him, anyway - and isn't going to kill anyone. It's weird how you've managed to have a conversation with him when he's like that, though. Usually he's just killing you."

"I can believe that." Jazz replied. "Anything else I should know before I go face him again?"

"Don't let him get out of his office, it's a pain to contain him."

"Noted."

Jazz left, trying to ignore all the optics watching him. He felt like a caged animal at the zoo, about to be prodded by a series of sharp sticks.

Next step; find the mech who had stormed out. If he were going to go to Polyhex, like hell was he doing it alone. That mech had wanted to join special operations; and they would if he had anything to do about it.


End file.
